Loss

Had to drop by and update so there is no confusion. We lost the pregnancy at about 8 weeks. Not exactly the news I hoped to write on here but it is what it is. I’ve blogged about the whole thing on Skymommy and will continue doing so. If you want to follow my journey that is where it will be and I promise it won’t always be such sad news.

We’re expecting!

and we’re beyond thrilled. Follow my adventure into motherhood at SkyMommy.com.

It isn’t that simple

Do you ever just stop, take a deep breath and take in the sweetness of the exact moment you’re in? You know, really stop and smell the roses? Nichole has taken that philosophy and created a whole blog dedicated to it. It’s truly beautiful. Every post is like a snapshot of life’s most precious moments. It inspires me and enchants me at the same time.

Nichole was also the very first person to ask me to guest post on her blog as part of her Small Moments Mondays series. I’m thrilled that she agreed to be a part of my Life Dreams series too.

I have so many memories from my childhood. There are so many happy moments that I can pull up and replay in my head like a happy home video. With all the thought and effort Nichole puts into truly being a good mom and living in the moment I have a feeling her beautiful children will be able to do the same.

———————————————–

One of my life dreams is for my children to have happy memories of their childhood.

This may sound like a simple dream, but I’m not so sure that it is.  Parenting doesn’t come with a neat and tidy manual, divided into chapters for certain success.

And what do I mean by a happy childhood?

I want them to remember…

…the routine of our mornings, snuggles and Cheerios and blowing kisses as Daddy left for work.

… the sound of my voice as I read to them, the feel of my tickles, the softness of my chest as I held them.

… that I listened to them.  Really listened.  And I pray that they remember feeling validated and important.

… that we showered them with kisses, hugs, and I love yous.

… the smell of their freshly-laundered sheets, my body wash, and Craig’s cologne.

… watching Giants, Red Sox, Patriots, Kings, and Spurs games as a family, eating peanuts, and feeling connected over the love for a team.

… my laugh and the sound of Craig singing with the radio.

… feeling safe in their world but also encouraged to stretch beyond it.

… family bike rides and feeding the ducks.

… the way that I brush their hair from their face and bury my nose in their neck.

… that I didn’t take them for granted.  That I didn’t assume that they had to love me simply because I am their mother.  That I strove to build a unique relationship with each of them.

… the love and tenderness that they had for one another and the importance that we placed on their relationship. That we actively helped to nurture that.

… that we played with them.  That we didn’t just sit through countless games of Chutes and Ladders, Candy Land, and Memory, but that we were present in the moment and that we delighted in their joy.

… that we laughed.  Together and often.

… running to and climbing on their daddy when he returned from work.  Every single day.

… that dinnertime was for talking and connecting.  For stories and plans.

I pray that we’re doing a good job.  There’s no way to know what they’ll remember, but it is my dream that the parts that stick are happy and comforting.

This is my dream.

—————————————-

To share in more lovely moments of her life be sure to check out her blog: InTheseSmallMoments.com

and follow her on Twitter: @ITSMoments

Loosened grip

Kris has a gift of words. I call them magic words. One minute you’re sitting on your couch and the next you’re transported into whatever world she chooses to create that day. Sometimes this means laughing until you cry. Other times it’s gut wrenching sobs. No matter what, you are guaranteed to think and feel with every post.

Dreams are some of the most precious, fragile things in life. And there is nothing like having a safe place to let them come true. I’m so glad that this blog is part of that safe place. Because here? All dreams are encouraged and can come true.

———————————————-

Dreams are scary things for me.

I am not speaking of the dreams I have at night, although those are sometimes frightening.

I mean the dreams of things I hope will be.

As a child I was told how special I was, and how anything was possible. And then the lips that spoke those encouraging words would lean close in to hear my dreams. I would happily confide.

There would be a span of time then in which all seemed possible.

That span of time would end. Inevitably. In a moment of anger and rage and hatred, that encouraging other would spit my dreams back into my face. Ridicule me for having hoped for anything beyond the walls of a small cold room. Mock me for the stupidity of having spoken my dreams. Insult and berate me for having trusted anyone with my heart.

Never trust anyone with my heart.

That lesson has stayed with me.

It is difficult for me to speak of the things I want. Wanting equals weakness. Wanting equals neediness. Wanting equals vulnerability.

Wanting invites rejection and pain and humiliation.

Speaking of the things I want literally brings me to tears.

I keep my hopes and dreams and desires . . . my wants . . . deep within me.

Where they are safe.

But in that silence? In that safety?

My dreams stay dreams. Beautiful and lovely to imagine, but no closer to being held in my hand than they were that first day I imagined them. Exquisite but eternally elusive.

Sigh.

Over the last eight months of blogging? Of writing posts for Pretty All True? I have somehow found the courage to loosen my grip on a few of my dreams. I have let them fly from my body and through my fingertips and out into the world. As my fingers have typed and gathered the words my mind wants to speak, my dreams have flown out into this world.

Whispered into the ears of encouraging others.

My dream of connecting with people through my words . . .

My dream of sharing my life . . .

My dream of telling my stories . . .

My dream of revealing some of my secrets . . .

My dream of capturing the magic that is my everyday . . .

My dream of pointing out the path that has taken me from there to here . . .

My dream of making a mark, even if it is only across the hearts of some future version of my daughters . . .

My dream of making no apologies for who I am . . .

My dream of writing this shit down . . .

My dream of being more fully . . . me.

This blogging thing?

Pretty All True?

It has allowed me to give voice to my wants, my needs, my dreams.

And every day that I sit down and assemble my thoughts? Every day that I post? Every day that I connect?

Every day that I trust a piece of myself with others?

Every day that I write this shit down?

I am more fully me.

A dream come true.

Happy sighs.

———————————————-

Go to her blog and join the roller coaster of words: PrettyAllTrue.com

And for certain fits of giggles follow her on twitter: @PrettyAllTrue

A herd of papillons

I found Niki while searching for other papillon owners. Not only did I find someone with one of the word’s most adorable dogs, I found one of the sweetest, most encouraging people I’ve ever met. She’s someone else that I’m sure if we knew each other in real life we’d be best friends. I can’t blame her for not wanting to give up beautiful Californian weather for the bitter cold winters in Chicago though.

Niki is the biggest animal lover I know. If it were possible I’m sure she’d have a whole zoo full of animals and would love every single one. I can’t wait for someday when her dream is a reality and I can take Phoebe to play with her herd of papillons.

————————————————

When @skywaitress first asked me to write about a “Life Dream” I got really excited. I was so honored to be asked, and then I got all dreamy about what I could write. . .